


muscles better and nerves more

by foxinsocksinabox



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Silly Boys, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 22:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11262732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxinsocksinabox/pseuds/foxinsocksinabox
Summary: A shameful shiver races across his skin when he imagines Tendou’s hands twined in his, pressed against his cheek. Wakatoshi pushes the thought away and cleans up the gym before going for a late night run, until the only thing he can focus on is the breath in his lungs and the burning in his thighs.





	muscles better and nerves more

**Author's Note:**

  * For [earlgrey_milktea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/gifts).



> from the saso tic-tac-toe prompt: _touch-starved_

The first time Tendou does it, Wakatoshi doesn’t know how to react.  
  
It’s such a simple thing, in hindsight. An arm slung around his shoulders, sides pressed together, and Tendou doesn’t even stop talking as he does it; doesn’t notice that Wakatoshi’s lungs have contracted into a fist-sized ball inside his chest.  
  
Somehow, he manages to keep walking, because his body is well-trained even if his mind isn’t.  
  
But Tendou isn’t called the Guess Monster for nothing. Wakatoshi must be silent a moment too long- he suddenly can’t remember what it was Tendou was talking about- because Tendou pauses and tilts his head. “Wakatoshi-kun? You okay?”  
  
Wakatoshi draws in a deliberately slow breath. “It’s nothing.”  
  
Tendou fixes him with a narrow stare from much too close, before they’re interrupted by Semi, coming out of his classroom with his gym bag slung over his shoulder.  
  
The arm around his shoulders slips off as Tendou and Semi start up their usual banter, and Wakatoshi pretends a pang of loss doesn’t shoot through his chest.

 

\---

 

The rest of his teammates all maintain a polite distance. The most Wakatoshi gets from them are claps on the back after a win or a friendly nudge to draw his attention if they’re on the bench.  
  
Tendou, in comparison, is an octopus.  
  
Wakatoshi knows he isn’t special- Tendou is just as physical with everyone else. But it doesn’t change the fact that when Tendou lays a hand on him, Wakatoshi finds it hard to concentrate on anything else.  
  
It irks him, that he cannot even master this, the simplest of reactions. He stays longer and later on days when Tendou’s proximity distracts him, drilling his body with 100 serves, and then 50 more. Wakatoshi is a man who likes control, and he hates that he can feel himself spiralling every time Tendou sits next to him in the cafeteria.  
  
A shameful shiver races across his skin when he imagines Tendou’s hands twined in his, pressed against his cheek. Wakatoshi pushes the thought away and cleans up the gym, before going for a late night run, until the only thing he can focus on is the breath in his lungs and the burning in his thighs.  
  
He passes a couple walking hand-in-hand on his way home from school, and unbidden, his cold, empty hands clench into fists.

 

\---

 

His father shook his hand when he left for the States. Wakatoshi was twelve and just starting his growth spurt, and his mother had frowned when his father opened his arms for a hug.  
  
So they shook hands, like men.

 

\---

 

“Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendou says, “You’ve been kind of weird, lately. Weirder than normal, I mean.”  
  
“Is that so.” Wakatoshi replies, putting his gym shoes in his cubby. He nudges them until they’re perfectly squared against the back wall, and places his knee pads in front of them.  
  
Tendou hums thoughtfully, and when Wakatoshi turns around he finds himself faced with Tendou’s narrowed stare. Ordinarily, Wakatoshi has no problem being the object of Tendou’s scrutiny, but after the past week he can feel himself tense instinctively.  
  
Tendou, of course, misses nothing.  
  
Wakatoshi can see the moment Tendou makes up his mind- to do what, though, he doesn’t know.  
  
“... Can I try something?” Wakatoshi considers saying no, but decides it would be petty. He tilts his head instead, knowing Tendou will read it as the permission he needs. “Stay there, okay?”  
  
Tendou rounds the bench, stretching out a hand.  
  
Wakatoshi’s breath stutters.  
  
Tendou hesitates an inch from his skin, something nervous in the set of his mouth, before a warm palm settles against Wakatoshi’s cheek.  
  
He has to squeeze his eyes shut against the barrage of emotion that swells up, overflows, sweeps him away at just that simple gesture.  
  
Wakatoshi can barely remember the last time someone touched him with affection- just for the sake of it, without a purpose or an agenda.  
  
Before he knows it, he’s covered Tendou’s hand with his own, anchoring it to his cheek. Wakatoshi can feel himself shaking, shuddering, and he doesn’t ever want to know what’s showing on his face, because Tendou is staring at him with wide, shocked, eyes and Wakatoshi _wants_ \--  
  
And then Tendou is _there_ , wrapping himself around Wakatoshi, all long limbs, red hair and pale skin. He pulls Wakatoshi down against his shoulder, and Wakatoshi goes, powerless to resist. Later, maybe, he will be embarrassed by this. But for now, he presses his face into Tendou’s neck and curls his fingers into Tendou’s jersey and just- breathes.  
  
Somehow, they end up on the locker room floor in a tangled mess limbs. Wakatoshi doesn’t know how much time passes before he comes back to himself enough to realise Tendou is singing, some a nonsense song about aliens and volleyball and hard-boiled eggs. A huff escapes, and Tendou pauses to run a hand through Wakatoshi’s hair.  
  
“How long’s it been, Wakatoshi-kun?”  
  
Wakatoshi opens his eyes from where they’d slipped shut at the gentle press of fingers against his scalp. He meets Tendou’s level stare, and looks away. “... A long time.”  
  
“ _How_ long?”  
  
He has to think about it. “Six years?”  
  
Tendou swears fiercely. Wakatoshi blinks at him and opens his mouth to say something- offer a rebuke perhaps, there’s no call for profanity- but the words don’t make it past the first syllable because Tendou kisses him instead.

 

\---

 

The next time Wakatoshi goes to Tendou’s house to study, they spend most of the evening just lazing, with Wakatoshi’s head in Tendou’s lap.  
  
“Hey, Wakatoshi-kun?” he says.  
  
“Mm?”  
  
“If I scratch your head long enough, do you think you’ll start to purr?”  
  
“... Perhaps.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'I like my body when it is with you' by e. e. cummings
> 
> Come talk to me on [twitter!](http://www.twitter.com/foxrocksyrsocks)


End file.
